So it's official: I am
the worst blogger ever. We've been in Winnipeg for almost six weeks now, and believe me when I say there has been plenty to write about, but you know that paralyzed feeling you get when everything seems to happen at once and you just don't quite know how to process it all? That's been me.
OK, here's my moment of truth: It seems that ever since we set foot on prairie soil, nothing much has gone according to what we hoped for or expected. It's been one long month of rejection, frustration, second-guessing, and disappointment. Getting here was already a stretch for our emotional and spiritual muscles, but after believing everything would work out as soon as we took the leap and instead, watched it all fall apart, well, that was just too much. A lot of tears, a lot of doubt, and a whole lot of missing home was the stuff August was made of. We assumed we'd find a place to live within a couple of weeks at most, but after applying to several apartments and being told we didn't qualify, we started to feel pretty discouraged. We also assumed that the job David had lined up with a local church would be the place where he was meant to serve, but after a pretty horrible and hurtful experience, we found out otherwise, and again, more discouragement. We took a few good hard hits this month, my friends, and to be honest, we're still reeling from the whole thing.
So all this to say, it's been one hell of a month! It's been uncomfortable and unsettling and frustrating and
so not what we planned, but thank God He's giving me perspective and the chance to just step back from it all, take a deep breath, and see His goodness. Because this is the good I see:
When no one would accept us as tenants, my best friend's dad (God bless his soul), bought us a house so we could rent from him instead. You heard me. The man
bought us a house. When we thought we'd be spending the next two years in a cramped and smelly apartment, we now have our very own cozy little home with a backyard and a sundeck and a garage and a mailbox. My friend's dad saw a need he knew he could fill, and he filled it. God's goodness.
When we had nowhere to live for four whole weeks, these same parents welcomed us into their home, fed us their food, included us at family dinners and at the family cabin, not at all expecting we'd be there as long as we were but making sure we knew we were welcome. God's goodness.
When we were discouraged and missing home and desperately needing community, my best friend Heather and her husband made us brunch, listened over coffee, showed us the city, and welcomed us into their own friendships. God's goodness.
I can't lie and say that I haven't questioned God's purpose in all of this. I've definitely had it out with Him and wondered why this has to be so hard, so impossibly and annoyingly hard, why we didn't just choose to stay home where things were safe and familiar and maybe stagnant, but comfortable. But then I remember this prayer I've prayed for most of my adult life, the one that goes something like this: "God, do something deep in my life. Take me places that aren't ordinary or easy for easy's sake. I want to know you more." And then I think, well, what did I expect?
The truth is, while I don't want to be obsessed with comfort and familiarity, I probably am. I tell God I want an unordinary life, but when the unordinary happens, I'm angry and I feel jilted. Of course it's human, and I can't expect much more of myself (ah, the classic struggle of the perfectionist!), but I
can make the effort to see beyond the circumstance.
That I can do.
In other news, yesterday was my first official day at grad school. Can you believe it? There's another example of God's goodness! It was good and slightly overwhelming but at some point during my fifth hour of theology class, it hit me. I'm doing this. I'm actually seeing the dream come to fruition, and it's good! That in itself makes the pain of the past few weeks worth it - almost...
